It Ain't Paranoia if... Ch. 05

They all approved, so Claude called his team, which was still on the ranch near Fort Davis. They were ready to roll, and said they could leave within the hour. Claude said he'd get back, hung up, and asked what I thought.

"Let me call Charlie."

Charlie was also ready to roll. He had gone over the plane earlier today; it was gassed up and ready, so all he needed was direction.

I looked at Claude. "They fly out at 3, pick you two up at 4, and you'll be sitting on the ground in Houston when the sun comes up. That gives you all day, or however long it takes, to go through the stuff in storage, and you could be back here an hour after sunset."

"Works for me! Kaitlyn?"

Kaitlyn looked disappointed. "I wanted tonight with you," she said in her pouty voice. "Could we leave tomorrow night?"

"Every hour works to their advantage, because we are playing defense and have to anticipate their next moves. If you find something and get back here tomorrow night, we can take the offensive. Make them react, or even nip their plans in the bud and end this!"

She sighed. "Okaaayyy, but you owe me, Mister!"

"And I'll gladly pay your price, Sweetcheeks. But keeping you safe is my highest priority, and this is the best way to accomplish that."

The goodbye kiss grew a bit ardent before we broke, prompting Claude to disclose his plan to place video cameras in the hospital room tomorrow night, so they could get the next scenes filmed for the movie.

Kaitlyn gave him a solid fist to the bicep when she walked past, and told him that scene was going to melt his damn camera anyway, so forget about it!

***

I slept like a baby from nine until three, then lay awoke considering all the things that could go wrong with our quickly conceived plan. Got a text from an IHOP in H'town at six, and another from the storage unit at eight.

I did all the normal early stuff, spent ninety minutes with the kids, and impressed my therapist with my recovering strength and flexibility. Yes, it hurt like hell, but Doctor Wong had assured me both wounds were healing well, so I gave her what she wanted.

It was sore enough afterward that I almost took the OxyContin they offered, but settled for four ibuprofen so I could keep a clear head. The noon progress report from the storage room wasn't heartening, but Clay's was good. The agents had spoken with our attorneys and were planning to submit a few questions in writing.

That meant they were either legit, or were playing along a bit longer before changing strategies.

The afternoon phone call from DC answered that question, but it wasn't the answer I wanted. Can nothing be simple?

The silence from Houston was deafening, and I was starting to work on Plan C at eight when a text came; nothing but a smiley face!

I replied with a puzzled face emoji, but all I got back was a chair... WTF?

That was followed by some couple doing one of those impossibly complicated TikTok dances in perfect sync, which only confused me more. I stopped working on Plan C and started looking up the meaning of various emoji and symbolic dances.

At 10:45 my phone buzzed with a text; I opened it and found a red Formula 1 car with a yellow lizard smiley face holding his right thumb up.

'Do these people not know I'm thirty years old, not sixteen? Conveying messages via emoji, memes, and video clips means jackshit to me!'

Kaitlyn, Claude, Clay, and Carlos showed up just after midnight. The first two were beaming triumphantly; Clay, Carlos, and I were appropriately subdued and tired, given the hour. Carlos did his due diligence in checking the room, and then set up the jamming device.

When Claude opened his go bag, extracted a portable external hard drive, and waved it around, though, the three sleepy heads awoke with a start.

"Have you examined it?" I asked.

"Yep! We call it The Motherlode! Not only do we have details of the North Korean oil smuggling scheme and the names of those involved, we also have information on Robert and his cronies' association with two drug cartels, at least two terrorist organizations, and what appears to be a plan to launder money and pass it on to the terrorists - for a fee, of course.

"When this gets to the feds, Robert will never get out of prison, and a bunch of rich and important people will be in there with him!"

"Not to put a damper on your excitement, but we have a problem that your find exacerbates," I said. "Cheech and Chong aren't on a sanctioned mission for either agency, but they are working for some really important people, including some senators.

"Which begets another question: have you made copies?"

"Tony began cloning it as soon as we found it and understood what it contained. He said he would clone the clone, put a copy or two in the cloud, and take some other steps to keep the information safe. Of course they don't know that, so they may go balls to the wall to get it - if they learn we have it!"

I looked at Kaitlyn, who had made her way to my right side and was holding my hand. "Where did you find it?"

"I remembered Robert asking me to save his mother's china safe, and wondered why. It was kind of big and clunky, not at all an attractive display for her expensive china and dinnerware. He had me get rid of much nicer things, so why keep this?

"We began examining it and found a hidden compartment in the base that contained the hard drive, several USB drives, and $100,000 in $100 bills. We brought all that with us, but we focused on the hard drive once we learned its contents. Claude has someone looking through the USB drives now."

"Great work, Kaitlyn, Claude. Now we have another problem: what to do with all we have. If the oil smugglers know we have it, they'll try to kill us and take it. If they know we have it and there are copies, they'll try to recover all the copies and kill us.

"And that's just the oil smugglers: the terrorists and cartels will join the hunt if they find out what we have on them!

"We need to get a copy to someone that matters. Someone who can circumvent rogue agents, officials, and senators, and, while ignoring the piles of money he/she will be offered, take them down. Someone who knows the right names to contact regarding the cartels and the terrorists.

"Can your contact do all that?" Clay asked.

"I don't know. Let me call him."

After apologizing about calling so late, and him responding it wasn't a problem, we traded greetings and I asked when he would have some time to talk about a business deal with a tight timeline I thought might make millions. He asked if we should meet in person, and I told him it was a big enough deal that I thought we should, to avoid corporate espionage.

He asked where and when; I offered to send a plane for him, as I won't be traveling for a few more days; or maybe weeks. He said his plane was ready to go, and he'd always wanted to see George W's home town anyway, so he and a team of associates would fly out first thing tomorrow.

I told him I was looking forward to it, and Clay Edwards would be there to pick him up if he would send the details of his arrival.

"That's probably overkill, but I'd rather be safe than sorry," I explained to our crew. "Let's get everyone up here from the ranch, and activate Carlos' boys as well. The next 24-48 hours are going to be hairy, and we need to protect our kids, the old farts, our guests, and ourselves.

"Assume every affected group will find out, and gear up accordingly. Defending two hotels and a hospital seems too complicated and resource intense, but I probably shouldn't leave the hospital quite yet. Therefore, you guys need to come up with a place and plan, and stiffen my security considerably when we have the personnel.

"What concerns do you have about these plans?"

No one voiced a concern, so Carlos informed us, "I have a place we can disappear to. It's down a road to nowhere, it's on top of a hill, you can see ten miles in every direction, and it's easy to defend because the road runs beside a deep creek bed from the gate almost to the house.

"I'm afraid you three," he continued, pointing at Clay, Claude, and me, "have too much to do to disappear, but I could take the kids, their mom, and their uncles out there, and surround ourselves with mis primos until you give me the updated plan.

"That leaves the Ultimate Solution teams to protect the three of you, your friend, and his associates."

I looked around the room and saw immediate acceptance from everyone but Kaitlyn. "I don't like leaving you here like a sitting duck! You know they're going to come after you when they can't find me! If you aren't with us tomorrow, I'm going to come back and drag you out of here!"

"There's one guard in the room with me, two on the hallway, and a few downstairs; I should be fine. I'm more concerned about the other patients and hospital staff, so I'll talk to the doctor first thing in the morning. Maybe we should hold our talks out there, Carlos?"

"No hay problema, amigo. Once we're all there, con mis primos y los soldados in place, we should be golden... as long as helicopters and missiles aren't used against us, of course."

"Maybe good Sheriff Goodson could order up some air cover again," Clay joked. "I hate to rely on our flimsy SAMs when he's got F16s!"

"All right, you three work out the details after you get Kaitlyn back to our kids and make the hotel safe. Got any goodies in that Go Bag, Claude?"

He tossed two magazines on the bed by my right arm, and handed me a stun grenade. Kaitlyn gave me a scorching kiss, warned me to be persuasive with the doctor, and they left. Within two minutes, Terry was setting up in my room, and he told me there were guards at each end of the hall and at a couple of locations on the grounds.

Knowing I needed rest, I thanked him, took ten deep four-second in, four-second out breaths, wandered around in my green spot for a few minutes, and went to sleep.

***

Only a few minutes later, it seemed, the early morning routine began. Fortunately, Doctor Wang came in at 8:15. I told him that I was in danger, and so were he and everyone else in the hospital. I explained that I had reason to believe another attempt would be made on my life sometime soon, and I didn't want to endanger others; therefore, I planned to leave today and stay away until the danger passed.

He wasn't happy about any of it, but he agreed to let me leave, with the caveat that I had to return in 48 hours, or as soon as it was safe, for reexamination and physical therapy.

Terry had a car ready; I exited through the ambulance entrance because it was less exposed, and we headed out. No one was actually tailing us, but cars and trucks pulled in behind and in front of us intermittently along the route, exited after a few miles, and more took their place. Interestingly, they had drivers and passengers who looked like gangbangers, but appeared very alert.

We took the Odessa highway for a ways, and then turned onto a paved county road that meandered through the desert. Just before it ended at the entrance to a ranch, we turned right onto a dirt road. A half mile in, the road began following a dry watercourse. The road was on the bank above the creek bed, but only about a dozen feet from the edge.

A six-wire barbed wire fence with steel and concrete posts ran along the road on the left. That left very little room to dodge, and no room to turn around.

I spotted a sprawling Spanish style house on the hill ahead. It was covered with white stucco, had arched windows accented with red tile, and a red tile roof. The front faced the road in, but you drove around to the right (north) side to an implement shed. Cars were parked in the front two bays, with plenty of room left for us and another vehicle.

Three or four acres had been cleared around the house. There was a heliport about one hundred yards behind the house, and a windsock identified a north -- south runway alongside the west fence, about a half-mile away.

A matching courtyard with six-foot high walls enclosed about an acre on the west side of the house. Terry dropped me off at a big, heavy door in the courtyard wall, and then went to park. There was a large swimming pool covered in ceramic Mexican tile, and a huge tile patio. There were three umbrella-covered tables surrounded by chairs on the patio, and a number of lounge chairs around the pool.

Islands of plants were interspersed in the tile, and a lush garden grew around the walls. The garden was broken into sections by tile walkways leading to small windows that looked suspiciously like gun ports.

This was by far the most action I'd had since being shot, and my arm and shoulder were letting me know they were not pleased. Still, when the back door burst open and my twin tornadoes stormed out, I knelt down and waited. They took pity at the last second, pulling up and going to my right side, away from the bandages and sling holding my left arm against my busted ribs.

The pain I felt at being hugged was easily surpassed by the joy I felt by being hugged. After a half-minute or so of loving, I looked up into the sparkling green eyes of their beaming mom, who announced, "You made it! What did your doctor say?"

"He said okay, obviously, although I did admit I was only doing it because you threatened me if I didn't."

She took my tease in stride, and made her way over to our little huddle. "Kids, can I give Daddy a hug now? You're hogging him."

They moved back, I stood, and she pressed that tight hot body against my right side, bonelessly molding herself to me from knee to shoulder. My hand couldn't keep from sliding down her back to that flaring ass and grabbing the cheek that was out of the sight of our children. She looked up at me and demanded, "Kiss me!"

It was quick and she was restrained, but the message was clear. I decided it would be worth the pain, even if it opened wounds. I squeezed her ass tighter, before we broke apart - an inch or two.

Terry came through the six-inch thick wooden door that was sheet metal clad on the backside, closed and bolted it, and introduced himself to my family.

Carlos and the male cast of Red were waiting inside the patio door, although they all resembled John Malkovich more than Bruce Willis. Oh well: as long as they can shoot like him, let them dress as they please.

We exchanged manly hugs, I thanked them again for taking care of my kids and Kaitlyn, and they invited me into the 'situation room', which was otherwise known as the dining room. Papers, laptops, and iPads were scattered about the table, and two of Ultimate Solutions techies were hard at work; they didn't even look up when we came in.

Carlos offered, "We have Viasat 100Mbps satellite internet out here. It's not up to their normal standard, but they said it's fast enough to get it done -- whatever IT is."

Abel was standing between the table and the picture window looking onto the patio. He shook my hand, and said, "I'm the control officer for this mission, so let me know if you need something.

"Weapons are cached in the corner. Mostly ARs, but we also have a MANPAD, two RPG launchers, and two Barrett .50 cal shoulder-fired machine guns."

"Good to see you again, Abel, and I'm glad to know you're in charge here. Let us know if we can help."

I turned to face the larger group and asked, "Have you heard anything from the Edwards boys?"

Carlos replied, "Not yet, but it's getting close to noon, so it should be within the hour.

"Anna has enchiladas in the oven, beans and rice on the stove, and a big bowl of salad. She told me twelve minutes ago that it would be fifteen minutes on the enchiladas, so let's fill our plates and go eat on the patio!"

Kaitlyn put a dab of each on her plate, saw my full plate and those of the others, and asked, "How can all of you eat like that when we're in such danger?"

"When you have a chance to eat, you eat. It could be a day or two before we get another chance, so fill your plate and fill that little belly! Dangerous situations require stamina!"

I had wolfed down three enchiladas and two helpings of rice, beans, and salad, and was working on a big slice of Tres Leches cake when my phone rang.

"We picked up a tail when we left the motel this morning, and they're Korean. It looks like they changed their plans, so Clay called a friend and leased him and his helicopter. Your 'friend', who just happens to be the former Secretary of State, brought his friend, the former Attorney General of the US, and a four-man security team.

"We're headed to the helo now in armored Suburbans. Once we are in the air, we'll make a few di-dos to throw them off before we head your way, so expect us in twenty minutes or so."

I acknowledged, passed the information on to Abel and the others, and speculated, "If they don't know where we are, they will when the helicopter and our guests arrive. I say that assuming they have the tech to track the helo, since we're dealing with Koreans again.

"I'm also assuming we have sentries posted and a defense plan in place, right?"

Having received the proper assurances, I asked, "I'd like take a look at the documents that are the cause of all this; are they available?"

Kaitlyn led me to an unused laptop on the dining room table, logged in, and opened the file. After only skimming it, I saw the extent of the problem, and knew we had to get the information out and into the right hands immediately after the Secretary and General reviewed it.

I arrowed back up and reread it, looking for details I missed by skimming. Midway through, I stopped, cussed, and used my phone to call Sheriff Goodson. I told him we were just over the Midland County line in southern Ector County and asked about his relationship with the local sheriff and Texas Rangers. I also asked if his friend in high places had anything going in our area, just in case.

He replied that he was close friends with the sheriff, really close friends with two of the Rangers, and that his friends at Fort Bliss were only minutes away. I gave him a quick summary of what was going on, and he said he'd marshal more help.

I finished my detailed reading, and returned to the group, which was sitting around the kitchen table. "Do we have a safe place here for the kids and dignitaries?"

"No bunker, but there is a steel-reinforced former 'bomb shelter' we use as a cellar. My maternal grandfather built this place back in the early 1950s, when there was fear of a nuclear attack by the Russians. My mother and her sisters inherited the ranch and house, but rarely used it. My sister and I bought it from them, and did a lot of work to get it shaped up.

"My wife and kids loved this place, and we intended to settle here after I retired. I 'hardened' it when problems with the cartel accelerated, and we made plans to move here after school ended. You know what happened to those plans, but I still come here to escape my troubles and to be around my kin.

"Today, though, the troubles have followed me and my friends to my sanctuary.

"Grace, Dos, Kaitlyn, come with me. I'll show you the 'panic room' I built for my wife and children. You will be safe there."

I walked outside onto the patio, and wandered around the grounds, thinking and considering. The helicopter should be here soon, and I knew I would need an organized, enlightening, and persuasive presentation. The two men with Claude and Clay were at the top of the Washington food chain, and had been for over a decade.

It wouldn't be easy for them to accept that people they had done business with - people they still did business with, for that matter -- were involved in circumventing laws they had helped craft and put in place, and were aiding and abetting sworn enemies of the United States - all in pursuit of The Almighty Dollar!